Turnadette Oneshots
by Rockbird86
Summary: A few silly little fics to try to get me back into writing. Mostly tumblr prompts
1. A Night at the Flicks

**A silly thing that occurred to me. Shout out to Kathryn Wemyss. I nicked the bit from _Timothy Turner and the Entertainment Badge_ about the last films that Shelagh saw. I hope you don't mind.**

**Half a recently-boiled kettle, steam-wise.**

"Made it just in time!" Patrick struggled his way out of his overcoat and slumped down into the seat.

"Patrick, why does doing anything with you involve being late?" Shelagh was out of breath and her hair all messy from running. "I'm not dressed for the Olympics. Come to the cinema you said. Quiet night out, you said." She looked around the auditorium. "There are lots of seats, why are we right up here at the back?"

Patrick smirked in the half light. He'd had a little bet with himself on the way that she wouldn't make the connection between back rows of cinemas and lapses in concentration. Obviously snogging in the back row of the flicks hadn't made its way to wartime Aberdeen.

"Better view back here, my love," he said matter-of-factly. "Now, what's this film again?"

Shelagh consulted the tickets. "_Some Like it Hot_. Oh I see, it's Marilyn Monroe you really wanted to watch."

Patrick feigned disinterest. "It was either that or _The Nun's Story_. Wasn't sure you'd fancy that one. Besides, I could have sworn that someone not too far from here took more than a second look at Tony Curtis on a hoarding we passed last week."

Shelagh shrugged, pinking slightly. "Possibly. I have a lot to catch up with."

"You certainly have. You told me once that the last film you saw was the _Wizard of Oz, _right?"

She laughed. "It was. When I was a child and you were, oh, very very old. No but that was the last colour film I saw. I told you, I saw _It's a Wonderful Life_. Shush now, it's starting."

The couple relaxed back into their seats and turned their attention to the screen. Shelagh was enthralled. It was indeed many years since she had been to a cinema. It was one of those things that she had heard the nurses talking about but never been able to opening credits rolled and soon the sound of sirens and gunshots came from the screen. Patrick glanced over at Shelagh. She was frowning, obviously bothered by the volume of the soundtrack.

"Is it going to be this loud all the way through?"

"Probably, sorry. You'll get used to it." He watched as she turned back to the screen. Casually, he freed his left arm from the pile of coats and edged it along the back of her seat.

There was no response. He inched slightly closer and curled his arm around her shoulder.

"Patrick, behave yourself."

"Sorry." He moved his arm back along the top of the seat and tried to turn his attention to the film, lasting a mere 5 minutes before his arm started to fidget and move towards her shoulder again.

"Patrick, stop it." She slapped his hand away gently. "The nurses will ask us how the film was when we go to collect the children and I don't want to have to tell them we missed it."

Patrick huffed slightly. She was providing a harder nut to crack than he thought she would but he wasn't that interested in the film and wasn't prepared to give up so easily.

He began to gently run his fingers over her hair. The sprint from the car had dislodged some hair grips and it was looser than usual. Daringly he pulled one out completely. "I love taking your hair down," he murmured into her ear, pulling out another, then another.

Shelagh took a deep breath and tried to ignore him.

"I love taking the clips out one by one…and then you do that thing where you shake your head and it all falls down around your shoulders, around me." His voice was still a whisper, but his tone was velvety and seductive.

Shelagh knew when she was fighting a losing battle. The removal of her hair clips and his slow stroking of her neck made it impossible to concentrate on anything else. Now she understood why they were in the back row. She turned to him, shaking her head in resignation. "I'm not that keen on Tony Curtis anyway," she mumbled as she gave in.

"Did you have a good time?" asked Cynthia. "I've wanted to see that film for weeks."

Shelagh coloured slightly. "Oh..yes…it was…very good. You should go. How was Angela?"

"Hardly a peep, had to wrestle her from Sister Julienne though otherwise no one else would have got a look in."

"Thank you ever so much," Patrick said. "Come on Turners, let's get you home."

"Of course," said Trixie. "Time for little Turners to be in bed. Cynthia we must see that film this weekend. Elvis Presley is just to die for, isn't he Shelagh?"

Shelagh nodded. "Yes, absolutely. Well, goodnight all and thank you."

"Not at all. Good night." Trixie shut the door behind them and turned back to Cynthia.

"What was all that about Elvis? He isn't in that film," Cynthia asked, confused.

"I know. Patsy owes me half a crown. I knew it, they didn't see a second of that film."


	2. Don't Let Her Fall

**Inspired by the picture of Timothy and Angela on the Turners' sofa**

"Timmy, don't let her fall now," Shelagh looked anxiously through the hatch as Timothy placed his little sister on the sofa in front of him.

"She's fine mum, she's not going anywhere. Have you any idea how heavy she is?"

Shelagh snorted. "Funnily enough yes. Seeing as I am the one who sits up every night holding her when the little monkey refuses to go to sleep. Not so keen to play with her then, are you?" She came back into the living room and bent over the baby, moving cushions round as she did so. "Just wedge a couple of these round her, then she can't roll off."

Timothy rolled his eyes. "Yes yes, she's fine, don't fuss, I'm supposed to be babysitting so you can make my dinner, I'm hungry." He looked at her sideways. "I'll just add the half a crown to your account shall I?"

He smirked as his mother popped her head through the hatch, a look of incredulity on her face.

"Oh no no. When your father said we'd pay you half a crown to babysit each time, we meant while we went for a walk, or a quick tea out. Not five minutes while I peel potatoes in the next room. Nice try though." She turned back into the kitchen and squeaked as Patrick grabbed her round the waist and pulled her to him.

"Patrick! When did you get in? You frightened the life out of me!"

He grinned, his eyes crinkling in the way she loved so much. "I wandered in while you were dealing with our little gangster in there. He's a chancer, I'll give him that." He pulled her head towards him. "Now, let's try again. Hello Patrick my love, how was your day?" he prompted before lowering his lips towards her.

"You definitely owe me for babysitting while you do _that_!" the indignant voice came from the living room. "Don't look at them Angie, you shouldn't have to see such things at your age. I'll sing you a song instead."

His parents broke their embrace, unable to continue through their laughter. Together they wandered back into the living room and stood watching, arms round each other as their son sang a nursery rhyme to his little sister.

"Worth half a crown?" asked Patrick quietly.

Shelagh shook her head, suddenly overcome. "No Patrick. Worth far far more than that…"


End file.
